Opera Atelier brought their opulent 2022 Versailles production of Marc Antoine Charpentier’s 1688 opera/ballet David and Jonathan to Koerner Hall in Toronto. Artistic Director Marshall Pynkoski reminded us last night in his pre-show speech that the company began forty years ago.
This version of the story largely matches what I recall from the Bible, a story that goes from something happy to something much darker including something like madness. Everyone is happy when David defeats the Philistine giant Goliath. But King Saul becomes jealous of the young champion, driving David away, turning upon his son Jonathan and becoming more erratic and demented. Although David and Saul’s son Jonathan love one another, both Jonathan and Saul both eventually die in battle. David becomes King of Israel, heartbroken in the midst of the celebration.
While the Old Testament may be the source, it’s presented through an operatic lens including a witch who conjures a ghost in the Prologue, a trouser role to add an intriguing layer of ambiguity and moments of joyous celebration, fierce passion, jealousy, madness and death.
David (Colin Ainsworth) embraces a dying Jonathan (Mireille Asselin, photo; Bruce Zinger)
The style of the work is ideal for Opera Atelier, showcasing their dancers. Instead of arias, Charpentier’s arioso builds up dramatic tension until it’s released through divertissements in dance and/or chorus. Before intermission the set-pieces are mostly celebratory dance, while after intermission we see dances including sword-play, choreographed by Jeannette Lajeunesse Zingg and Fight Director Dominic Who.
A program note from Marshall & Jeannette says “For our 40th Anniversary we wish to reiterate our conviction that period performance is not a museum. It is a threshold–a point of departure and new discoveries”. Looking back on those four decades, one has to admit that not only have they and Opera Atelier been exploring and articulating historically informed performance practices, but we in the audience have been learning how to understand what’s put before us onstage. For this 17th century opera / ballet the gap between historically informed performance and modern interpretation seems narrower than usual, or in other words the work for Marshall and Jeannette on this production feels especially authentic.
Artists of Atelier Ballet (photo: Bruce Zinger)
Gerard Gauci’s set is a perfect match to the wooden surfaces and colour scheme of Koerner Hall’s interior.
In this my first experience of the opera/ballet, I was not always clear on what I was seeing as there’s some ambiguity in the work & its presentation. When we are seeing the happy faces of David or Jonathan, or during the Prologue I had no problem. But the complex scheming and plotting of Achis (the Philistine King, played by Christopher Dunham) and Joabel (the Philistine general, played by Antonin Rondepierre), messing with Saul (the Israelite King, played by David Witczak) left me sometimes unsure whose rantings I was hearing.
Achis (Christopher Dunham) and Saul (David Witczak, photo: Bruce Zinger)
I wonder if there is a movement vocabulary or gestural language to assist in differentiating? except that if Marshall and Jeannette employed these techniques (ways of standing, posing, singing, to signify madness or anger or jealousy) I am not sufficiently literate in these elements to easily decode what I saw. Or maybe it’s simply that the opera is new to me and I will understand it better next time.
The principals were effective, working with the gorgeous sounds of the Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra and Tafelmusik Chamber Choir, conducted by David Fallis, sensitively ensuring that the singers were never covered. At times the choir, singing from the balcony, seem to address thoughts inside a singer’s head, as in the scene where Jonathan (Mireille Asselin) contemplates his conflicting loyalties and the upcoming battle. The sanest happiest characters at the heart of the story are the title roles of David (Colin Ainsworth) and Jonathan, surrounded by intrigue and lunacy. It’s a thrill hearing the powerful tenor voice of Colin Ainsworth, a stalwart performer for Opera Atelier.
The Prologue was for me a highlight, Mireille Lebel singing powerfully at the bottom of her vocal range, as the Pythonisse (a witch) conjuring the spirit of Samuel (Stephen Hegedus), who tells Saul (David Witczak) that heaven has abandoned him, similar to what we can read in 1 Samuel 28. It was compelling theatre to watch a 17th century take on madness as seen in the gradual decline and collapse of Saul.
Charpentier’s David and Jonathan will be presented again at Koerner Hall this weekend with performances Thursday April 10 and Saturday April 12 at 7:30 pm, and Sunday April 13 at 2:30pm. For tickets click here.
Marshall Pynkoski and Jeannette Lajeunesse Zingg in Versailles (photo: Bruce Zinger)
Madelaine Rose is an accomplished Toronto based multi-hyphenated internationally recognized award winning creator. She is an actor, producer and director with experience and training in both film and theatre. You can read a more detailed bio here on IMDB. I saw & reviewed Madelaine Rose in 2017 in Flea in her Ear and had hoped to work with her a few years ago in a production (that didn’t happen) so of course I’m a big fan.
Now Madelaine is doing her one-woman show Passed Down as part of Solo’d Out, a festival of solo plays at Red Sandcastle Theatre that runs April 17-27. Passed Down opens April 19th. I wanted to discover more about Madelaine and Passed Down so I asked her a few questions.
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Barczablog: Are you more like your father or mother?
Madelaine Rose : I often talk about how I feel like I was raised by a village. That village included my parents, but also my siblings, my grandparents, step-parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, biological family and chosen family. And I think I’m a little bit like all of these folks that had a hand in raising me.
My Mum is so creative, and I definitely feel like I get that from her, but my Dad is very logical and practical, and I feel like I also get that from him. I feel like my performer hat is from my Mum, and my Producer hat is from Dad.
But also somehow I feel like I’m so much like my grandmother, Pam Hobbs. She’s quite possibly the coolest person I’ve ever known, she is 95 and has truly no clue how old that is, she’s an author, and she spent so much of her life travelling the world and writing articles about the places she travelled to. She’s such a brilliant writer and I always thought the writing gene must have skipped me, until a couple of years ago when I finally started writing plays. Like this one!
Madelaine Rose
BB: What is the best or worst thing about what you do?
Madelaine Rose: I have the same answer for both! The best thing I do, is that I get to wear so many hats in this industry, the worst thing I do is also that I have to wear so many hats in this industry. Theatre and the arts in general feel like they’ve changed so much in the past decade or so since I started. I started my journey in this industry as an actor. But it quickly became apparent to me that that wasn’t enough. I started producing, then I fell into directing and eventually writing. I love all of these different facets of my artistic practice that I’ve fallen into. And I feel like each of them has given me a new love and respect for the other. I love producing and pulling a team together, doing things my way by leading with compassion and care. I also love directing and working with actors in such a meaningful way, finding all of the little nuances in a piece and bringing them to light. I have also found a newer love for writing, for putting jokes into a script, or coming up with just the right word for a character to say. But all of that can also be exhausting, especially when you’re doing so many of those things on the same project!
BB: Who do you like to listen to or watch?
Madelaine Rose: I’ll happily listen to or watch a wide range of genres, and mediums, as long as it’s good, or so bad it becomes good again, or really if there’s something interesting about it! Lately I’ve been watching the newest season of Survivor. I grew up watching it so to see that it’s not only still on but going very strong 20 years later is really captivating to me. I’m also part of a movie club which means I watch a different movie every month and meet with some friends to discuss it. Who gets to pick that month rotates, so I’m forever watching a wide range of genres and movies, some of which I’d never have thought to watch before which is part of the beauty of it!
BB: What ability or skill do you wish you had, that you don’t have?
Madelaine Rose: I’m not always the most technically inclined, I mean I can pass when it comes to tech stuff, but in the theatre and film worlds I am completely lost past the point of being able to plug things in and knowing the image I’m looking to create. It’s probably for the best though, being able to collaborate and work with others who are more knowledgeable in other areas is one of the best parts of creating theatre and film.
I’d also love to be able to paint, it seems so relaxing and there’s something so lovely about visual mediums where you have such a tangible product at the end.
BB: When you’re just relaxing and not working, what is your favourite thing to do?
Madelaine Rose: Hiking! Being outside in general.
Often after a big project, after I’ve spent so many months working like crazy on something, the best way for me to decompress and ground myself is to go for a long walk in the woods. Bonus points if there’s good company and snacks!
BB: What was your first experience of live theatre ?
Madelaine Rose: I think one of my first experiences with theatre was when I took drama classes as a kid. We definitely needed some sort of outlet as kids, especially me (I was definitely that hyper kid who never stopped moving), and I think the idea of sports bored my Mum so she put us into theatre instead. Little did she know, with me anyways, it would stick! I remember being bummed that I didn’t get cast as the lead, but I also don’t remember ever having stage fright. I don’t think there was ever an ounce of fear in me as a kid at the thought of running onto a stage in front of however many audience members. Those classes ended in a show on one of the biggest stages I’d performed on still to this day, and someone video taped it. I’ve since watched it back and I absolutely flubbed my lines, and yet I loved it! I hammed it up and made the audience laugh. I was like 8.
BB: Tell me about your upcoming solo show Passed Down.
Madelaine Rose:Passed Down was co-written by myself and the brilliantly talented Rosalyn Cosgrove, who is also directing it, and will be stage managed by Monique Danielle. Rosalyn is based in the UK so all of our meetings have been through video chat which has been it’s own fun, quirky experience, but I couldn’t imagine working with anyone else on this play. Rosalyn and I wrote out a short version of it for a 24-hr play writing contest, and decided to expand it for the festival. We’ve had a really great time finding ways to create tension in the play, to add moments of humour and to really dive into this medium of a one-person show.
This play is about Persephone, a young woman who inherits her Great Aunt’s Victorian-style home after her passing. It’s the first night in her new home, she’s filled with excitement and can’t wait to make this house her own, she’s invited her best friend over to christen the new place with a fabulous dinner. Through a series of phone calls with her Mums, and digging around she starts to learn more about the family history and wonders if the house is the only thing she’s inherited…
BB: The Eventbrite listing says the following: This one-person thriller will have you on the edge of your seat for the full 60-minutes, wondering if Persephone is indeed all alone in this house… or even stage. Be Careful what you inherit! It makes me want to ask: do you really want to scare us?
Madelaine Rose: I do! My director and I have talked lots about using the space in such a way to make the audience feel like they’re in this house with me, like they’re stuck here too!
BB: What are your favourite scary stories?
Madelaine Rose: Shaun of the Dead is one of my favourite movies, and I love the idea of mixing horror and comedy. I think it’s really smart and a great way to take care of your audience, to sort of make them laugh, then scare the heck out of them!
I also really like the series Haunting of Bly Manor. I like when folks take the classic horror movie genre and turn it into something else, like a TV series, or mix it with comedy, or in my case turn it into a play.
BB: Who are your main horror influences?
Madelaine Rose: I’ve only recently found a love for the horror/ thriller genre. Growing up horror wasn’t really anyone in my village’s thing so I wasn’t particularly exposed to it. However over the years I’ve slowly started getting into the genre as more and more critically acclaimed films from the genre felt like a “must watch,” such as Get Out, or Us. Then about 5 years ago some friends from my improv class started a movie club, and one of the members is a Horror professor, so naturally I began watching more horror, and really finding myself getting into the genre. I don’t know that I have any particular influences but I love a good old school horror, or creature feature. I’m a fan of the Scream series and really anything that has become a cult classic.
BB: Is there a genuine lesson to be learned from Passed Down, noting that your poster says “Be careful what you inherit“?
Madelaine Rose: You’ll just have to come check it out to find out for yourself! I do think there are lessons to be learned here when it comes to the story, but also when it comes to playing with the genre, and space.
BB: Talk about the excitement & challenge of a solo show.
Madelaine Rose: I have directed two solo shows in the past, but this is the first one that I’ve written and am starring in! I enjoy directing one-person shows, and getting to work one-on-one with an actor, and often times one-person shows can be very personal, so I’m forever grateful to the actors who bring me on to direct their one-person shows and share than vulnerability and authenticity with me. So creating my own felt like it was inevitable, it felt like it was time.
One-person shows definitely come with their own set of challenges. When I direct them I’m always trying to be conscious not to have my actor simply stand there and just spew their lines at the audience. With only one person on stage it can be hard to keep the show moving and dynamic.
As an actor though, there’s a whole host of other challenges that come up. I will be on stage, by myself, for 60 minutes! That’s a long time! Stamina, energy and the ability to talk for an hour straight all come in to play here.
As an artist though I really like to explore the medium I’m working with and the space I’m in. So I think myself and my director have had a really fun time exploring the ins and outs of the one-person play medium.
BB: You’re part of Solo’d Out: a one-person play festival, brought to you by Sigh No More Productions and Mad Butterfly Creative. Who are they?
Madelaine Rose: Sigh No More Productions is actually my production company (created by myself, Kareen Mallon and Natalie Morgan), and Mad Butterfly Creative belongs to Kelly Taylor, who is also the creator of “Thank U, Ex!” one of the other plays featured in Solo’d Out. Kelly and I met in 2017 when she cast me in her show “Ladies Sigh No More,” she was also acting in this show, and our two characters, Ophelia and Desdemona, were to be best friends (you may even see a little nod to this friendship in Passed Down). Well life imitated art because Kelly and I did indeed become good friends, and have worked together on many projects now. I often describe her as my partner-in-art. Kelly has this incredible ability to dive head first into a project and figure it out on the way down, her ability to just go for it is something that I am always in awe of. She’s the one who grabs my hand and says “let’s jump!”
For Solo’d Out, we came about the idea because both of us applied to a well known theatre festival and neither of us got in. She had a one-person show that she’d toured, quite successfully, across Canada and internationally, but never felt like she was able to do it properly here in Toronto. Whereas I on the other hand had ideas for one-person shows but didn’t know where to put them up. We also knew other folks with one-person shows in need of a somewhere to showcase them, so Solo’d Out was born! We applied for grants, and thankfully Canada Council for the Arts was generous enough to fund this idea. We’re so excited to share these solo shows, and all that this festival has to offer with Toronto Theatre audiences. We’re also hosting this festival at The Red Sandcastle Theatre where “Ladies Sigh No More” went up so many years ago. It feels like a really sweet full circle moment for us.
BB: Do you have any influences / teachers you would like to acknowledge?
Madelaine Rose: First and foremost I want to acknowledge Kelly Taylor, she’s been my partner in this festival, but also my partner-in-art and she’s been my mentor for so long now. I truly wouldn’t have accomplished many of the projects that I have without her influence.
Kelly Taylor
I’d also love to acknowledge some of my early career influences like my professor from York University Aleksandar Lukac, he showed me what it’s like to create weird and wonderful art, much like this show!
Aleksandar (aka Sasha) Lukac
I’m also incredibly grateful to all of the artists, crew, and supporters of Solo’d Out, and Passed Down, putting this festival up has been a dream come true and it’s only possible because of the amazing team of artists who have put so much work into it!
Friday April 4th the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir conducted by Jean-Sébastien Vallée presented Beethoven’s glorious Missa Solemnis to a partially – full Roy Thomson Hall.
Jean-Sébastien Vallée, Artistic Director of the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir
The Missa Solemnis is a perfect showcase for JS and his impeccable baton work leading this big ensemble, the huge Choir cutting off cleanly, entering boldly when asked. As the title suggests, it is a solemn work, among the finest works ever created by Beethoven.
Our orchestral experience came courtesy of the Kitchener-Waterloo Symphony, sounding entirely at home in the warm confines of Roy Thomson Hall.
Missa Solemnis includes a gorgeous series of violin solos during the Sanctus resembling a violin concerto. Bénédicte Lauzière made a stunning account of this intriguing section, where Beethoven’s spirituality takes a somewhat secular form. For me this was the highlight of the evening.
(l-r) Concertmaster Bénédicte Lauzière, Brett Polegato, Jean-Sébastien Vallée and Frédéric Antoun, before the K-W Symphony and the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir
Speaking of solos we were fortunate to have an excellent quartet of Canadians. Mezzo-soprano Simona Genga was impeccable in her phrasing and dynamics, a big voice at her command when she wanted, subdued and perfectly blended with the ensemble much of the time. Tracy Cantin reminded us of the dramatic sound she brought to the Canadian Opera Company as Lady Macbeth.
(l-r) Frédéric Antoun, Jean-Sébastien Vallée, Simona Genga & Tracy Cantin accepting our applause, with the K-W Symphony and the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir
It was great to hear tenor Frédéric Antoun (a stylish interpretation) and baritone Brett Polegato (his voice sounding bigger and darker than ever).
This is the first time for me to see the Missa Solemnis in person. It’s a subtler work than the 9th symphony, not as popular and a colossal undertaking. Tonight’s audience received the performance rapturously.
Before the concert I had a chance to chat with my friend Bruce McGillivray, who plays a double bass with the K-W Symphony. I interviewed him back in 2022. We met through our parents, who shared the same room at Bridgepoint rehab hospital in 2021.
Bruce McGillivray and his instrument
It was great to have a chance to reconnect before this wonderful concert.
I have just roared through Ardra Shephard’s memoir, a book that I loved from start to finish, wishing it wouldn’t end. I did not expect such a fun book.
If I call Ardra a multiple sclerosis activist it could make your eyes glaze over: but pay attention or you’ll miss the point.
Author and activist Ardra Shephard
The title Fall-osophy: My Trip through Life with MS is a tiny clue.
And then there’s the cover, the cartoony image showing someone flying ass over tea-kettle, a shoe coming off and a cane launched into the sky. This is a memoir of someone who knows how to live regardless of what life has thrown at her.
In Fall-osophy: My Trip through Life with MS you can’t help noticing that we’re in a realm of puns and jests, the perspective of someone sharing their trips and fall-osophy. Shakespeare would approve, the multiple meanings not so much suggesting comedy as the instability of meaning, the fluidity of a life that is perpetually unstable: as it must be when you discover you have relapsing remitting multiple sclerosis, or RRMS.
To say it’s funny is simplistic. Yes you have to find a way to laugh at the craziness you face with MS.
I’m in awe of Ardra for the fluidity of her prose, making the narrative about her journey feel universal, so relatable that it’s irresistible, overwhelmed to encounter so much wit so much brilliance. I am a bit starstruck to be honest. I fell for Fall-osophy, tripped up by its language and kick-ass attitude. I was seduced because instead of something serious and heavy and telling me what to think, I found myself giggling at every page, sometimes every paragraph, wishing I’d been invited to the party or at least asked to play the piano while she sang. Ardra is in your face challenging assumptions as though she’s somewhere between AOC and a stand-up comic, when she’s not telling us about not being able to stand up. I thought of the mouthy comedy of a Joan Rivers or a Chelsea Handler: confronting MS, confronting our dumb-ass assumptions, confronting thoughtless people. I was uplifted by this positive energy that inspired me even as I was also moved. Yes a few times I was surprised by tears precisely because it was never where you expect.
Great writing.
At several points I stopped reading to make notes, wanting to capture Ardra’s wisdom. For example at one point she articulated something Erika and I have struggled with for decades.
Ardra wrote “On some level, I already have a sense that one of the burdens of being sick forever is to let others know I’m okay.“
First off: yes chronic illness means “sick forever”: a funny turn of phrase, but that’s why it’s powerful.
And holy shit this impacts relationships, especially loving intimate relationships. This might be the most romantic book I have ever read because of how truthful it dares to be. I’m almost ashamed to admit it, because my version of reality was so full of denial and avoidance of pain. Ardra is braver than I.
As a man whose diagnosis for his own tiny chronic condition (minor compared to what Ardra faces, please note) took more than a decade, I had lived a lie, pretending to be normal and okay, sometimes in remission sometimes in pain, faking it because that was my only option. Erika helped me understand that one of the indirect results of my duplicity –pretending to be okay, living in denial of my own pain–was that I was always in denial, sometimes furiously so, making me hard to live with. Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, it’s a pain management strategy. If I pretend I’m okay maybe I will be okay: or that was the plan, especially in the decade plus before I knew what was wrong with me. I could get very touchy about being asked if I was okay, as someone who was only pretending to be okay. And yes I know this sounds crazy. The thing is, reading about Ardra’s experience, her brash response to her diagnosis, has been like therapy for me, putting me in touch with the disconnect between expectation and reality.
But I need to point out that this is far beyond MS, because it’s universal as we all get older, at some point acquiring limps and bunions, hunching over, having trouble hearing or seeing or moving, in the disability drag show of simulating competence rather than admitting our need for help. We are all tasked with this question of whether we ask for help, whether we will let others know we are okay. But of course Ardra got the diagnosis at 23, meaning that she began to be aware of the consequences and implications of aging way earlier than most of us.
Another passage that hit home was when she suggested that the diagnosis was in some way her own fault. Ardra wrote A few weeks later I will think back to that drunken night and consider that my attempted conversation with the underworld and the shady deals I tried to strike with the Prince of Darkness somehow led to my diagnosis. Random shit doesn’t just happen. Bad things happen to bitchy people, and it couldn’t just be terrible luck that I’d gotten MS. There had to have been a reason, and for a few years, I will believe the reason is me.
So in addition to bearing the burden of the diagnosis, there was blame.
We watch a progression in the romantic story she tells, wondering if the bf The Bartender aka TB will still be in the picture later in Ardra’s story. For the rest of the trip, The Bartender never takes his eyes off of me. He seems to know when I want to move and is ready with an arm to steady me. I’m not completely incapacitated. We still lounge by the pool, play cards and go to the shows. We’re still having sex. But it’s not the same. My whole body feels foreign to me. Like I’ve been Freaky Friday’d and I’m existing in someone else’s skin, waiting for lightning to strike and put me back in my own anatomy.
I’m reminded of the dark humour of Trainwreck, trying to hear how this might sound if it were Amy Schumer delivering her verdict on Bill Hader. The Bartender has taken good care of me, but back in Canada, he drops me off at my parents’ place looking visibly relieved. My mom invites him to come in and have a drink, but he declines. Like an under-qualified babysitter handing back a kid they had no idea was an uncontrolled pyromaniac, he can’t get away fast enough. I can’t blame him. He signed up for a sexy beach vacay, not an unpaid internship as a personal care worker. I didn’t exactly nail fun, cool and low maintenance, but I have bigger things to worry about.
This is much more than a story about MS. We see real-life implications for relating, for living, for loving. And it’s so authentic, so blunt I couldn’t stop reading.
The conflict between empowerment and the underlying powerlessness of MS lurks in the depths of this story. With the exception of Dr. Poker Face, who uncharacteristically has an ominous reaction when I skip into his office declaring myself basically cured, everyone compliments me for how I’m fighting this disease and winning. My MS is stable and I’m taking all the credit. I have smugly solved MS. Of course, the flip side of giving yourself props for doing well with this disease, for believing you control the outcome, is what happens when you have another attack. If fighting is all it takes to beat MS, who’s the loser when there’s another relapse?
Irony is a big part of Ardra’s toolkit, as she regularly tosses dark questions at the reader, working through stages of accepting the diagnosis. I wonder if there’s something equivalent or analogical to the Kubler-Ross stages of accepting death at work? her vulnerability is astonishing as she lays herself bare before the reader. For example… I think back to an event I attended when I was first diagnosed—a “Welcome to MS” information night when Mac’s top neuro talked to patients about treatments and research. When he said that in all of his years of treating MS the patients who did the best were the ones who accepted their diagnosis, I was outraged. I thought he was a quack. What kind of doctor tells you to kick back and accept it? My intention is to fight this disease with everything I’ve got, and to me that means being on high alert. Of course, the cost of my vigilance is steep and unsustainable. Every day, I wake up worrying about my next relapse, but crying and freaking out don’t seem to be staving off attacks. I don’t know how to not be scared of what is unquestionably scary. Although most of my moods are future-based daymares, I can’t deny that I miss the old me. I miss all of the mes I could have been if MS hadn’t entered the picture. Maybe I am depressed. I book a follow-up appointment and get on the bus to go home.
And Ardra’s tone and outlook change several times on our way through the memoir.
Yet fun is still possible. A day of pampering isn’t what it used to be. No sufficient word exists to describe the pain of dysesthesia. My feet are medically cold. My toes barely warm up in the spa’s tub of what I presume is hot water. My toenails are the colour of frostbite and the aesthetician tries to scrub off what she imagines are the remnants of blue polish (and not a sneak peek at my future corpse feet). Pedicures trigger spasticity, which causes my legs to seize, and/or clonus, an abnormal reflex that makes my feet bounce uncontrollably. I tend to tip extra if it even seems like I might kick my pedicurist in the face.
I hope I don’t seem to be a psycho that I find Ardra’s writing funny, but her self-deprecatory confessional writing slays me totally. She’s not letting MS stop her, and it’s beyond admirable. At moments like this I return to the title and the image on the cover of the memoir. The Manhattans were my most recent bad decision, but my first mistake was my choice of underwear. I lost my balance trying to pull down my skin-tight slip and stumbled backwards over (and kind of into?) the waist-high garbage can. And that’s how I ended up huffing bleach on the floor. All because I am incapable of putting comfort and practicality ahead of style. Well, that and also alcohol. MS was a factor, but I think we can all agree I did this to myself.
I should know better. I do know better. This is my fault.
While Manhattans aren’t what I drink I admire the dryness of the descriptions if not the drink (which isn’t dry).
The deeper we get into the book the darker the prose. To each their own, but I love the way she handles the darkness. Statistically, MS shaves roughly eight years off of life expectancy, which sounds a lot to me like MS is, in fact, coming for you, albeit eventually. … But eight years is the lifespan of the average Saint Bernard, and I for one am not comforted by the thought of MS shortening my life by one whole dog.
The story becomes more serious, as for instance in contemplating a medically assisted end of life scenario. It’s upsetting to realize that while I continue to wait for a spot to open up in rehab, I could be approved for MAID (Medical Assistance in Dying) in just ninety days. In addition to complaints of insufficient, under-resourced health care, a staggering number of disabled people point out the critical lack of adequate accessible housing that is driving them to seek out MAID. With so many sick people struggling to simply exist on a disability income that keeps them in poverty, it’s hard to believe that policy-makers are ultimately concerned with “dignity.” When death is the alternative to a properly funded health-care system, it starts to feel kinda eugenics-y.
There’s so much more to Ardra’s life than this book as you discover when you read the jacket cover, and she’s living that life with authenticity.
The book is the outcome of her growth as a media creator and writer. I’m in awe of her writing style and her attitude to life. If I’ve persuaded you to consider buying the book, here’s the link to Douglas & McIntyre’s website, where you can have a look.
I went home satisfied from tonight’s Toronto Symphony concert, a program including some items exactly as expected plus a few surprises.
For an evening titled “Angela Hewitt Plays Mozart” it was a very solid collaboration between the famous pianist and a young conductor from Poland named Marta Gardolińska leading the TSO.
At times Hewitt moves her left hand in response to the orchestral music almost as though she were conducting, seeming at least to be a mentor to the ensemble and their youthful leader. I’ve been listening to this 21st piano concerto of Mozart K467 all my life, so I was grateful to hear a touchstone executed faithfully with a couple of wonderful cadenzas. Hewitt didn’t seem to be working hard, her performance as effortless and perfect as her smiles.
Angela Hewitt (photo: Keith Saunders)
For an encore we went to the expected fountain of her inspiration, namely JS Bach. Before playing the Aria of the Goldberg Variations, she spoke of her joy being back in Canada, in Toronto, winning the enthusiastic applause of a patriotic crowd who had already risen to sing our national anthem.
We were told of the personal significance for Hewitt of 2025, as the 40th anniversary of a prize won here for playing Bach, the 50th anniversary of her first performance of the Goldbergs in Lunenberg NS. (I hope I got that right)
Her encore was pure magic.
For the remainder of the program we were in the realm of the unexpected.
We began with an Overture by Anton Reicha, a Czech-born contemporary of Beethoven whose work is largely forgotten, at least until recently. The first part of the Overture is conservative but before long it begins to employ an infectious dance rhythm in the uncommon time-signature of 5/4, that you might know from the modern piece Take Five, except we were in a folk idiom rather than anything jazzy.
Gardolińska showed herself to be firmly in charge during the Reicha Overture and the Mozart concerto.
The concluding work on the program, Mendelssohn’s Symphony #3 was for me the highlight of the evening, and reason to expect great things from this young conductor.
Conductor Marta Gardolińska
I’ve been listening to different interpretations of this work, subtitled “Scottish”. Mendelssohn is often singled out for the way his travels inspired works with local colour such as his Italian Symphony or his Hebrides Overture. This moody symphony is another great example of romanticism in music, although it can lead to a great variety of interpretation. There are four movements, two of them subdivided, allowing a great many ways to assemble the parts. I grew up on a very slow thoughtful disc from Otto Klemperer, recalling an admonition (from someone, surely not him but someone analyzing his approach) that a melody must never go so fast that it fails to be properly articulated. Of course tastes vary, and levels of skill may change from century to century especially as instruments are improved (valves for example), so that while his recordings clearly articulate every part, his tempi are largely out of favour, slower than what one usually encounters in a modern concert hall. Perhaps I am a bit of a dinosaur in adoring what Klemperer does on this symphony, even if for many other works I think he’s too slow.
I invoke him before mentioning the choices from tonight’s interpreter, Marta Gardolińska, who at times came closer to my beloved Klemperer than I’ve heard in awhile, particularly at the end. Her opening movement Andante con moto was sufficiently slow and thoughtful, preface to the Allegro un poco agitato (a little agitated), although I think her agitato was more than un poco. But it was tasteful, beautifully articulated as the TSO players responded to her leadership. The second movement vivace non troppo was as everyone does it nowadays, which is to say (in my opinion) ignoring that “non troppo” (not too much). The brass were magnificent in response, clearly phrasing the climax done at a pace I do find troppo. Perhaps the skills of modern players are improved beyond what Mendelssohn could have imagined in his time. Bold and brave as it was, I like it a bit more restrained, but it still works. Then when we reached the Adagio Gardolińska surprised me, taking things slower than anyone I’ve heard in a long time, carefully drawing out the luscious string melodies to make Otto proud (wherever he has gone), as we experienced the most deeply sensuous meditation. For one who appears to be so young, Gardolińska’s displays great maturity and good taste.
The finale, with its multiple segments, regularly frustrates me, conductors racing through the Allegro vivacissimo (although I wonder if Mendelssohn could have imagined the pace taken tonight): but one can’t blame her when the composer more or less asked for it, right? There is a slow transition passage to remind us of the fast themes in a dreamy reminiscence in A minor of the Allegro, before the A major asserts itself in the Allegro maestoso assai. I regularly cringe in horror because we don’t usually get something genuinely maestoso (majestic): that is, not if the conductor races through the finale.
Miraculo! Tears rolling down my cheeks for the whole movement, stunning, truly majestic, as the melody was allowed to take shape rather than forced. The ensemble built from a soft assertion of the hopeful melody. And once again this orchestra responded, making something stunningly beautiful.
I am once again impressed at the powers that be at the TSO who find new talent, in this case the brilliant Marta Gardolińska. I recommend this concert, repeating Thursday & Saturday at Roy Thomson Hall, plus Sunday afternoon at George Weston Recital Hall.
Spirited and sensitive, Jennifer King is a versatile pianist who enjoys exploring the world of classical music in the 21st century through the presentation of new music and the revisiting of past musical gems. She has established herself as a sought-after talent on concert stages across Atlantic Canada in both the role of soloist and collaborative artist. Her remarkable career spans three decades and the impact of her artistry has inspired the dedication of piano works and a growing number of commissions from Canadian composers. King’s countless contributions to musical life in the province have been celebrated with an Award of Appreciation from the Lieutenant Governor of Nova Scotia.
These past several years have seen King truly blossom as a recording artist. Frequently heard on CBC Ici Music and CBC Radio 2, her growing catalogue of works began with the 2018 release of O Mistress Moon, a collection of two centuries of Nocturnes and night inspired music. Consecutive releases include a live recording in 2019 (Doolittle: Minute Études “Excerpts”) and a collection of twelve short piano works inspired by fairy tales in 2020 (Twilight Hour: Collected Stories for Piano). In 2022, Jennifer released O Mistress Moon: Canadian Edition. Distributed by Leaf Music in Halifax, this set of twelve contemporary piano works embodies the moon, outer space, and the night. The album has received praise for its “dramatic out of this world sonic listening” (The WholeNote); it won Classical Album of the Year at the East Coast Music Awards 2023; has been featured on the cover of Tidal Music’s Piano Spheres playlist; and has seen numerous tracks featured in Apple Music curated playlists.
A familiar face on stages across Atlantic Canada, Jennifer has presented hundreds of recitals for many of our region’s iconic festivals and concert series. Jennifer also has co-written a musical play with mezzo-soprano Suzanne Campbell about women gaining the right to vote. “The Bessie Carruthers Study Club” features Jennifer as British composer and suffragist, Ethel Smyth while Suzanne plays the titular real life figure of Bessie. This play won a Prince Edward Island Heritage Recognition Award in March 2024 and received funding to tour by Innovation PEI and PEI Culture Action Plan.
Jennifer King (photo: Jive Photographic)
April 25th Jennifer releases a solo album of music by women composers such as Ethel Smyth and Clara Wieck-Schumann. I was happy to have the opportunity to ask her some questions.
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Barczablog: Are you more like your father or mother?
Jennifer King: My mother was a piano teacher who taught me at a very early age to sing and play. She showed me how the music staves worked when I was 4 and then I immediately read the whole beginner piano book. Reading music has always made sense to my brain, and I love the brain stimulation from reading music, absorbing it and performing music on the piano.
BB: What is the best or worst thing about what you do?
Jennifer King: While I don’t enjoy sitting for long periods of time, I do enjoy the activity of sitting at the piano. But I love being physically active so I power walk, hike (backwoods backpacking) and sea kayak, all great activities I love that provide a nice balance with my long hours at the piano.
BB: Who do you like to listen to or watch?
Jennifer King: Right now I am rewatching Mad Men. I hope we aren’t going back to those times.
BB: What ability or skill do you wish you had, that you don’t have?
Jennifer King: I would love to be better at hearing chord progressions. I can remember melodies but I would love to be more skilled in harmonic listening. Both my son and mother are SO good at this. I am jealous of them!
BB: When you’re just relaxing and not working, what is your favourite thing to do?
Jennifer King: Bake and make soup.
BB: Who do you think of first, when I ask you to name the best pianist ?
Jennifer King: Martha Argerich
BB: What was your first experience of music ?
Jennifer King: I don’t remember as it’s been that long, but my first performance was singing when I was 5 years old. My mother’s student, also 5, accompanied me on the piano. I think it was called the Chipmunk’s Lullaby.
BB What’s your favourite piece of piano music?
Jennifer King: Anything by Ravel
BB: do you have any ideas about reforming / modernizing classical music culture to better align with modern audiences ?
Jennifer King: Yes! I feel we need to use simpler language and take away the exclusivity of the classical world. This music speaks and tells stories, there are SO many entry ways to introduce new and diverse audiences, but we can’t keep doing the “same ol’ same ol’” . Music lives and breathes and can transcend time. Curation and inclusive vision at the top of arts organizations can help keep classical audiences engaged and refreshed.
BB: Talk about women in the classical music business. Is it roughly the same as society, or perhaps better? or worse?
Jennifer King: Unfortunately there is a long culture of “shelving” women in the classical music business and this includes composers and performers. I feel it is worse than in society. I love what Lady Gaga said recently about her lifetime achievement award at 38. I mean really? She took them to task for this award which basically said “ your time is up!” Music is a lifetime career and if you have the drive and energy to keep exploring and pushing yourself, no one has the right to limit you. That’s why I included Joni Mitchell on this album. What an inspiration!
Jennifer King (photo: Jive Photographic)
BB: As mentioned, your upcoming record features Women Composers. Classical music is changing very slowly. Between #MeToo, artists being called out, or instrumental activist Katherine Needleman would you say that the classical music world is changing fast enough for you?
Jennifer King: NO it is not changing fast enough but slowly and surely I hope things will improve. Yes, this album features composers who are women but the album is also about giving voice to composers who haven’t always had representation in concert halls. I have been working at championing female composers, and supporting composers in my community for some time.
When I discovered Ethel Smyth’s music it made me very curious about what other voices aren’t being heard, which led me to learning more about Mel Bonis, Fanny Mendelssohn and on and on… There are SO many voices to discover! This album just scratches the surface.
BB: Tell us more about the female composers on your recording.
Jennifer King: I am particularly fond of Ethel Smyth and her music. There is only one short Nocturne on this album but I have performed some of her songs, including her famous suffragette anthem, March of the Women, and will soon perform her Violin/Piano Sonata. I have also read her memoirs and listened to her operas and other large scale works. She was a force to be reckoned with! She gave up composing for two years to dedicate herself to helping British women gain the right to vote. I co-wrote a musical play with my friend, PEI singer Suzanne Campbell about Ethel’s battle called the Bessie Carruthers Study Club. Again, Ethel is a force and a beautiful composer with stunning music that should be more known.
BB: Wow, I see it was presented last year..! I hope you will get to present this again, perhaps here in Ontario.
Jennifer King: Thank you. This play was a lot of work and we were lucky the past two summers to receive support and funding to present it – once in a small theatre in PEI for a residency in 2023 – The Souris Showhouse and in the summer 2024, Innovation PEI and PEI Culture Action Plan gave us a grant to do a tour in PEI and Nova Scotia.
Jennifer King as as English composer Ethel Smyth (photo: Lesley Evison)
The Bessie Carruthers Study Club stars Suzanne Campbell (right) as Bessie Carruthers, with Jennifer King as English composer Ethel Smyth. (photo: Lesley Evison)
Both Suzanne and I would love to present it again and hope to so possibly this summer or in 2026! We are very open to presenters or conferences as this is a fun interactive show as the audience becomes the study club and it includes sing -alongs as well.
It’s lots of fun playing Ethel Smyth.
BB: Are women composers getting their due finally?
Jennifer King: It’s starting, but everyone (at all levels of arts organizations and in the music business) has to be on board. International Women’s Day and Women’s History Month are great opportunities to showcase female -identifying composers, but this problem is endemic. Concerted efforts need to be made with orchestras and arts organizations. [do we finally listen to them simply because they’re good? or are we still noticing the gender] We should listen because the music is extremely worthy and tells a bigger narrative about life from a woman’s perspective.
BB: Do you have any upcoming projects / shows / workshops you might want to mention / promote?
Jennifer King: Sure! I have a concert in Halifax on Saturday April 14th 7:30 pm at The Music Room with a violist from the OSM- Rosie Shaw. She is also a composer and has written solo works for viola, violin and viola/piano duo for the concert. We are also performing Rebecca Clarke’s Viola and Piano Sonata and Ethel Smyth’s Violin and Piano Sonata. Rosie and I have corresponded by email and had a few phone conversations, she heard my Scriabin Nocturne recording on CBC and loved my playing so much, she reached out to do a concert here. I think that’s pretty cool, and also very flattering. I can’t wait to start rehearsals with her.
BB: Are music programs doing enough to prepare students for the business?
Jennifer King: No not really, but there are other organizations that can help. Here in Nova Scotia we have Music Nova Scotia. I have learned lots of great business skills from attending their conferences and workshops.
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JENNIFER’S NEW ALBUM RELEASES ON 04.25.25 Jennifer King’s solo piano album Souvenance is a collection of nocturnes, romances, and meditations grounded in the romantic era and branching into the 20th century. Including rarely heard music by Ethel Smyth, Clara Wieck-Schumann’s beloved “Notturno”, and Jennifer’s own meditation on Joni Mitchell’s “Blue”, the album is an introspective journey rich with heartbreak, hope, strength, and tenderness. Recorded in Jennifer’s living room, Souvenance invites the listener to sit on the piano bench beside her for a deeply personal experience of the music. Souvenance’s composers are all women, most of whom faced formidable gender-based barriers to having their voices heard.
Tonight Erika joined me to hear the Scarborough Philharmonic Orchestra in a concert featuring joyful works by Beethoven and Bruckner.
No wonder they titled it “Joy!”
Stephen Sondheim, Andrew Lloyd Webber, William Shatner, and Dave Keon were all born on March 22nd. Me too. A concert featuring Bruckner’s Te deum and Beethoven’s 9th Symphony felt like a great way to celebrate my birthday, which will continue for another hour or so as I recall the event at the Salvation Army Citadel, just a short drive from home.
While I had told Erika what a splendid teacher Ron Royer (the SPO Music Director) was, she got a close look tonight. Ron is a superb communicator, both in his pre-concert talks and in his relationship with the orchestra, who respond to him.
Ronald Royer (photo: Dahlia Katz)
Both works on the program also featured the Toronto Choral Society, who are led by Geoffrey Butler, and who was conductor for the Bruckner Te deum.
Our soloists, soprano Holly Chaplin, mezzo-soprano Veronika Anissimova, tenor Corey Arnold and baritone Luc Lalonde, all had their moments to shine.
While Ron was conducting the Beethoven, I think the star of the 9th was Geoffrey’s choir, who were superlative throughout.
Soloists, chorus and orchestra were thrilling to watch in the intimate space of the Citadel. It was jam-packed with perhaps 3 to 400 people in attendance. If you consider that the TSO concert I saw earlier this week, attended by perhaps 2400 people, takes the lovely sound of our TSO, and forces six times as many people to make do with the sonic energy that we heard tonight. Yes there are wrong notes, there are players who make mistakes: but the richness of the orchestral timbres are so much greater in their detail, like a high-definition sonic picture. Some of the climaxes took my breath away.
There wasn’t space for seats for the choir, so that we watched the first three movements of the Beethoven, then paused while the chorus entered, to stand at the back for that finale. The drama of the movement was extraordinary, watching perhaps 100 pairs of eyes in the rear, the singers of the Toronto Choral Society, watching Ron, awaiting their entrance. I was moved to tears, loving the closeup intimate view.
I’m grateful for a wonderful night of music, thanks to Geoffrey, Ron, Holly, Corey, Veronika, Luc, the singers and players, plus the works of Anton and Ludwig.
Last night the Toronto Symphony celebrated an honour to their music director Gustavo Gimeno from his homeland, while affirming connections to Toronto, his new home.
Gustavo Gimeno (photo: Marco Borggreve)
Gimeno was appointed Commander of the Order of Civil Merit (Encomienda de la Orden del Merito Civil) by his Excellency Alfredo Martínez, Ambassador of Spain to Canada, conferring the insignia and certificate on behalf of His Majesty King Felipe VI of Spain at the concert tonight.
The speeches were dignified reminders of the relationship between Spain and “the sovereign state of Canada:” words that drew great applause from the crowd. And when they played the anthems of both nations, many of us sang along with the TSO for our own anthem; I sing it in French given that they’ve changed the English words so often I don’t trust myself to sing them correctly.
The title of the concert was in recognition of the big symphonic work on the program, Mahler’s Fourth.
Soprano Anna Prohaska
Before intermission we listened to a series of solos sung by Soprano Anna Prohaska, 2024/25 TSO Spotlight Artist. Prohaska began in the choir loft singing Rufus Wainwright’s “A Woman’s Face”, a setting of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 20, a work she has been singing for awhile judging from the different versions one can find online. This was not the only time the singing was theatrical in its presentation.
The TSO played a brilliant instrumental while Prohaska descended to the stage, the sparkling Overture to Der Schulkandidat by Maria Theresia von Paradis.
The TSO then showed us another side of Gimeno, as he accompanied Prohaska in a pair of arias. I’ve heard before about Gimeno’s work as an opera conductor, another skillset we are still discovering in the TSO’s new music director.
But the Mahler Symphony was really our focus, the reason most of us were there, and they didn’t disappoint.
I said Gimeno wore his heart on his sleeve in an attempt to capture what we heard from a conductor whose deportment and technique are often so very disciplined, so very carefully controlled. This was an interpretation that I feel met Mahler halfway, a reading full of schmaltz, warm emotion, playful celebration. The childlike tunes sprinkled throughout were given full voice, the brass especially given a chance to let their melodies fly without restraint. I’ve been listening to this symphony all my life, watching different cohorts of players, and believe this is not just the most skilled group but the best version I have yet heard in Toronto. Fans of this symphony would do well to get to Roy Thomson Hall Saturday when they repeat the program, but without the ceremonial presentation.
Prohaska’s entrance was very dramatic, coming onstage at the fortissimo climax of the third movement, coming forward to sing in the last movement. Her singing was deliciously idiomatic, responsive to the text.
I was completely blown away by the latest Tafelmusik concert I saw and heard tonight. It’s a reminder that, while we associate Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra with music from long ago, that doesn’t mean they can’t surprise you with something new. Indeed what I heard tonight felt new and even revolutionary.
Tafelmusik players (photo: Dahlia Katz)
It wasn’t the first time I sat at a concert wondering: do we know what the baroque is supposed to sound like, and is this (what I am hearing) an accurate representation of that style? Baroque entails improvisation, elaboration and decoration, and of course one doesn’t necessarily find all the notes they play written on a page.
But I misrepresent this if my academic discussion makes it sound like a serious enterprise, given that we saw one of the most playful performances I’ve ever seen at a concert, the music seemingly spontaneous and alive in the moment.
Miloš Valent was leader and one of the soloists tonight on violin, sometimes singing (although I couldn’t understand what he sang), sometimes wandering about in Jeanne Lamon Hall, sometimes reacting in ways to underline the theatricality of what was being made, seemingly invented before us.
The program is an exploration of the influence of folk music on the baroque. The freshness of what I heard astonished me. I feel certain that when classical music seems to be a dry process working from old texts they’re doing it wrong. Not this time. Everything seemed newborn, organic, alive.
Miloš Valent
Don’t let the word “baroque” stop you from going to this concert. This feels very new, very spontaneous. Much of the music has strong dance rhythms, aided and abetted by percussionist Naghmeh Farahmand.
Naghmeh Farahmand
Naghmeh Farahmand previously appeared with Tafelmusik in 2018, a powerful contributor to Alison Mackay’s Safe Haven.
The program was deceptively simple on the surface, seeming to alternate between well-known composers (Telemann at least a dozen times, plus Purcell, Vivaldi, John Playford & Jacob van Eyck once each) and texts bearing the authorship label “Traditional”.
Just because music is from centuries ago doesn’t make it stodgy or conservative. It felt like a party.
Jan Rokyta offered some electrifying solos on several instruments, a virtuoso of the cimbalom, duduk, clarinet & recorders. I found that his instruments completely changed the feeling of the music, especially when I felt he was pushing my magyar buttons with his magical cimbalom sonorities. Anyone with European ties (either by your heritage or the music that moves you) may find themself transported to another world listening to this program.
Jan Rokyta
Miloš, Jan, Naghmeh and Tafelmusik will be back March 8th & 9th at Jeanne Lamon Hall.
Sarah Hagen describes herself as a “recovering pianist”. As a collector with a ridiculously big library of scores maybe I need to admit I have a problem, and someone like Sarah can help people like me.
Next week Sarah delves into the remarkable stories and piano music of forgotten female composers of the classical repertoire. This recital will highlight piano works by 18th and 19th century composers, including Mel Bonis, Cécile Chaminade, Agathe Backer Grøndahl, and others. Included will be stunningly gorgeous music by Marianna Martines, who lived in the same circles as Haydn and Mozart, and often joined Mozart in piano duets at the musical soirées she and her sister held in their Viennese home.
She is a pianist and a humorist, perhaps also a psychotherapist for those of us needing help. I’m ready to learn, first through an interview.
Sarah Hagen (photo: Karen McKinnon)
Barczablog: Are you more like your father or mother?
Sarah Hagen: I am a mix! I share their sense of humour and their sense of fun, and well as their deep love of music.
BB: What is the best or worst thing about what you do?
Sarah Hagen: The best part is seeing so many parts of the world and meeting such a wide range of people. I love the travel and the busy-ness of touring.
BB: Who do you like to listen to or watch?
Sarah Hagen: I love listening to singers from some decades ago… Astrud Gilberto, Julie London, Vic Damone, Blossom Dearie, Jack Jones. The song-writing and the orchestrations are so fine.
I have watched Moonstruck approximately 65 times. It’s a perfect movie.
BB: I agree! (and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched that film). What ability or skill do you wish you had, that you don’t have?
Sarah Hagen: I wish I could play the banjo. And double bass! One day…
BB: When you’re just relaxing and not working, what is your favourite thing to do?
Sarah Hagen: Walking is my favourite pastime! On the beach when the tide is out, through fields, on city sidewalks… It’s when and how I do my best thinking.
BB: Who do you think of first, when I ask you to name the funniest comedian / comedienne?
Sarah Hagen: Victor Borge!!
BB: What was your first experience of music ?
Sarah Hagen: There was always music in my house. I’m the youngest of five and we all played the piano. My father had a melodious high tenor voice and loved to play records of gospel music… and music from the Holy Land… which for him was Norway! So I also grew up listening to a fair amount of Grieg. My eldest sister was a world-class jazz singer. In addition to her incredible voice, she was astonishingly good at drawing audiences in. I learnt so much from her.
Sarah Hagen (photo: Karen McKinnon)
BB: I see you created “Perk up, Pianist” a Fringe-type comedy show. Tell me more.
Sarah Hagen: I created the show out of burnout… and I have found it is a topic that a lot of people relate to. It is a show about laughing at oneself and finding healing and joy in small things. I have performed the show across Canada (and the US) at least 100 times now, so I like to jokingly call “Perk up, pianist!” a Canadian Classic. (Ha ha.)
I hope to bring the show to Toronto next season!
Sarah Hagen (photo: Karen McKinnon)
BB: Who are your humour influences?
Sarah Hagen: I love Victor Borge, of course. I also love the very subtle, zany humour of Zach Galifianakis. Jennifer Saunders and Victoria Wood have been big inspirations for me as well.
BB: do you have any ideas about reforming / modernizing classical music culture to better align with modern audiences.
Sarah Hagen: I like to think of classical music as just music, not its own category. Storytelling is a big part of this. I myself am interested in the stories behind the songs, so this is what I enjoy sharing, and I think audiences like having this window into the music as well.
BB: Is some of your comedy based on politics?
Sarah Hagen: I talk a lot in my show about bad dates, which in a way ends up being about sexism in some cases. After one performance a woman in her 70s came up to me and told me it occurred to her in the middle of my show that she had been mistreated by her husband for decades. I think humour is so close to the truth and for that reason it can carry the potential for huge positive impacts, beyond just the immediate laughter!
BB: Tell us more about the female composers on your program.
Sarah Hagen: I began performing this programme after purchasing a disappointingly thin volume of music by female composers about 20 years ago. After reading through the music, I remember shutting the book and thinking to myself, There must be more music than this, and certainly more music of a better quality! I simply didn’t feel the collection fairly represented the music that had been created by women during the 18th and 19th centuries. So I set off on a musical treasure hunt, searching online, through old collections of music, and in libraries. I have found that good music is getting easier to find as scholars take more of an interest in researching these remarkable women. So, I am constantly refreshing the programme!
I am also continually fascinated by the stories of the strong women behind the music. These are the women who fought for equal pay as their male colleagues, who insisted that they could also have a life and a career outside of the kitchen, who chose to shockingly forgo marriage to be able to fully focus on their art. These are the trailblazers who are an invaluable part of our journey to gender equality.
BB: Do you have any teachers or influences you would want to mention?
Sarah Hagen: A major influence for me has been Jamie Parker, who was my teacher at university for two years a long time ago. We have remained excellent friends and manage to get together either in Toronto or on the west coast (where we’re both from) at least once a year. He is so genuine and funny and grounded.
barczablog 